


Dreams

by CapnMcMuffin



Series: The Age of Splintering [1]
Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: Fourth Age, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 12:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22715710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapnMcMuffin/pseuds/CapnMcMuffin
Summary: The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass. In the Fourth Age, an Age of Splintering, the world has discovered the Unseen World, Tel'aran'rhiod, is a land just waiting to be conquered by mankind. But such an exploit has caused drastic consequences, and other worlds begin to bleed into the waking world, overtaking entire countries. Now a world where the Last Battle is but a distant memory must grapple with new problems brought on by mankind's desire for more. And, like all Ages wrought by the Pattern, old things thought to be long gone return again...
Series: The Age of Splintering [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633621
Kudos: 2





	Dreams

Foggy, blurred shapes swam before Imer’s vision as he awoke.

The headaches had come again, and he gripped his skull as pain wracked across it. There was little he could do about it, these mysterious headaches. They had come sporadically ever since he was a boy; sometimes striking once a week and sometimes not for months at a time. Yet still they came, as harsh as ever,

Imer slowed his breathing, forced himself to drive the pain inward, as he always did now. The electric stabs dulled to faint throbs, and eventually they subsided entirely. He looked up as his vision cleared. That has been the worst headache in quite some time, but now he could see the familiar scenery that was his simple, one-story home. The farmstead on which he lived had never been exceptionally gaudy or showy; it only provided what he needed and nothing more. 

Imer Surtirovny lived a solitary life, and that was the way he preferred it. With no partner or children to share his home with, he would often go days on end without speaking to a soul, without speaking a single word at all. The only time he truly left his ten-acre plot of land was to go into the town of Brinyet to sell his wares, and that was not often at all. If anything, the only companionship he needed were his animals. They never spoke back to him or judged him, not even when it came time to slaughter a hog or bull. No, a simple life was truly all that Imer Surtirovny desired.

And yet…

The dreams that preceded the headaches as of late were starting to worry him. In his thirty-one years of life, he had never had such dreams before. He never did remember his dreams, now that he thought on it. Never were they of any substance--he only grasped  _ emotions  _ of immense pleasure, pain, suffering, and exaltation. And sometimes, at the absolute most distant corners of these dreams, he could detect an essence that was of the dream and yet not at all. Something big and terrifying that he could not comprehend in the slightest, no more than could an ant detect crossing the border of one land into the next. Imer did not understand where these notions had come from, but they always arrived in his dreams before the headaches wracked him. And he  _ liked  _ it.

He massaged his temples as he thought for the fiftieth time about what these dreams and the desire for those feelings could possibly mean. Looking out the window, the sun was already well in the sky. He had slept too long. The thoughts emptying out of his head as though through a sieve, he yanked on his britches and ran out to the barn to check on his livestock.


End file.
